Tuesday, February 28, 2006

I'm afraid you're failing my class

I'm thinking about changing my name again from Fide Cent to Anti-Semike.

This is for when people call me an Anti-Semite...which believe it or not has happened... I can say, "No, it's Anti-Semike."

Then when they understand their mistake they will laugh and apologize and we'll get coffee or have sex or something.

Unless it's one of those Jesus hating Jews. Then I won't accept their apology and send them away in tears.

Just teasing, Jews, you know you have a friend in Anti-Semike.

Is it me, or is there a lot of hate wasted that could be better directed at the Jehovah's Witnesses? I think a good website would be, www.loveTheJewHateTheWitness.com. Too bad it's already reserved.

Monday, February 27, 2006

An angel a devil a monk and a weavil

So there I was, sitting on the plane, and all around me are old ladies talking about God and Jesus and Genesis and all kinds of crazy things when it hits me: I'm dead and this plane is dropping me by hell on its way to heaven!

Then we hit some turbulence and I realize there is no turbulence in heaven--and I also hear about how these graybacks just got back from some religious conference!

What better plane ride to be on that one full of devout Xtians? God would never crash that plane.

Then the headline strikes me: Plane full of religious devout crashes into mountain.

Oh, the fucking irony. That must surely be my fate.

Happily the laws of science dictate that planes don't generally crash. Even when they should.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

The end of violence is death

Nothing I have ever written is opinion. It is all fact.

Jews will truly do well in space. That's fact. If you disagree you are two things, wrong and an anti-Semite.

Jesus does drive a chrome space ship in baby form and fights the aliens. Fact. I have seen it. Remember? I told you so. He chose chrome because the sun glints off it just so and sometimes blinds the aliens. For the same reason, the cylons are shiny.

The atoi function is going to be renamed atoz and will in fact do everything and all programmers will be out of a job. Even the ones in India who do things fast and free. Sorry, India.

As evidence showing that I am a font of truth I will tell you to compare everything I have said to the following equation: e=mc^2.

That's right, the theory of relativity. I think that settles it. Just ask Einstein.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

How cool is that?

A lot of people think that the Jews would be terrible as space travelers and I used to agree. I no longer do.

It occurred to me, last night, as I was hoping that curling would be on msnbc for ten thousand hours again, that the Jews would simply take over all the space banks and space movie industry and hire a bunch of space Mexicans to do the hard work.

Good job, Jews.

Secondarily I want everyone to know that if you wake up in the morning and feel an odd sensation it's probably a lack of a hangover. It happened to me once and I was confused but then I figured it out. Over the tradi(tional pretzel breakfast.

Thirdly...I know it's a lot today and I'm sorry (I've been accruing ideas on my special think devices (do not confuse with stink devices))... If I had to lure the Chief into the fetish chamber for a ribald, rabid (rapid) romp I would definitely use a meatball gun and a chair and a whip and a small Asian boy whose last name is Chip. The last part rhymes like (supposed to rhyme like) Goodnight Moon but with a young Asian boy instead of...mush and whispering...hush.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Bob Barker is insignificant

I am considering waxing the interior of my ass crack with the sleekest of heated wax so that when the poops were ready to slide, they would glide with a glistening grace right into the toilet. Or wherever I choose to slide them.

Then I got to wondering...do the various gays wax that gentle crack?

Do they cry in gay ways when the delicate hairs are ripped out by the very roots and do their backyard neighbors notice the pains they took to look so elegant and preserved?

Do you notice?

Monday, February 20, 2006

Here is a lesson for you, my friend

My favorite part of a blow job is when you suck on my dick until I ejaculate.

My second favorite part is when you shut the fuck up afterwards.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Penicillin is for pussies

I am officially (legally) changing my name to Fifty Cent from Ho. Please refer to me not as Ho but instead Fifty. If you say Fifty, I'll cut your froth. It's fide, bitch.

This is my first single hit that will rake me in the millions:

When I ejaculate
into your eye
you might cry
but chances are
you'll be asleep
from the date rape drug
I put in your drink

It does not rhyme, yet and it's obscene and offensive but it has the fide brand and that's enough for Shady n me.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

I hope you don't get the aids from it

I bore witness to the birth of three poops yesterday and today I'm here to tell you that I'm on the second poop and hope for at least one more.

The first poop (from yesterday) was a fighter. It dug it's little poopy claws into my virgin sacro iliac (a rare portion of the male anatomy not to be fucked with or about) and dug and dug and I had to force him out.

And force I did.

The secondary poops were small and looked like miniature raisins--so much so that I actually tasted one and I'm here to tell you that looks can deceive.

The tertiary poop sprang from my ass as if afire. It (the posterior missile) shot out and I worried that it would split the porcelain of my fine, white toilet.

I was contacted by the Guinness book of World Records (early in the AM) and am now the record holder for the most non-diahreeal poops given in one day and also the fastest velocity poops measured at over forty miles per hour.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Root Analyzer

The dodecahedron has been declared by the scientific community to be the fanciest shape out there. We of the science community, have decided (as a body) that if the dodecahedron were a jedi it would be akin to Darth Maul or perhaps some other Darth type creation.

Not without some coincidence, your mom's vagina is shaped like a dodecahedron. Further without some coincidence, my penis is also shaped as such but longer.

I captured a picture of the rare dodecahedron on the wikipedia which is an encylopedia for the poor people. But I still use it so I keep up with all you poor folks.


That's it.

Monday, February 13, 2006

Vroooom, goes the rocket!

Well, this weekend there were several movies that I didn't see in the theater, in fact...it was all of them.

I will now review the newest movie out called Final...something... part III. Final Destination, or fantasy or some such bullshit as that. Part three.

What happens in this movie is that several young, pretty teenagers or young twenty somethings narrowly escape death! The twist? They should have died! I know! Just like the last two!

What follows is that death comes after them and tracks them down and kills them one by one in bloody fashion. In that one scene you see that girl's boobs, probly--and that's a pretty good scene. Then that one guy dies on that one thing. Then the other chick--the ugly, smart one--well, she dies...from the flamethrower or something.

Finally, they start to figure out that death is catching up to them! Oh, no!

What to do?

Then someone else dies. The whore who smokes a few cocks for lunch.

Then finally, there are only two left and they figure out what to do! Then there's a sneaky suckerpunch at the end that sets up part four!

The next movie I'm going to not see at the theater (nor on DVD (nor on VHS because old technology is for losers unless we're talking Morse code which is pretty cool cause it's ancient)) and will review...is the Jew one where the crazy Muslim fundamentalists kill them all in Germany!

Thursday, February 09, 2006

All this just to say, pictures can pwnt you

Everyone, sound the alarm, the Catholic/liberal/United States attacks on the Prophet whose name I cannot spell are continuing en masse--well, at least one more that I am aware of--and by attacks I am saying the cartoons.

Not just regular cartoons, no, these cartoons are so vicious, so vile that they show the actual face of the Prophet. I know, I know.

Everyone in the world, we all know that the crazy Muslim fundamentalist is not like that one fat kid in the park. We know that the crazy Muslim fundamentalists are not that fat kid who you go up to him and say, "You're fat," and then he chases you around the park over and over again and you're so much faster cause he's a big fatso and he can never catch you! So fun! Every time that fat kid chases and every time it's the same thing! No, the crazy Muslim fundamentalist is not that brand of fat kid at all, please liberal media stop trying to make us think that about our crazy Muslim fundamentalist brother. Go back to your stories of those sad, sick owls or that...nuclear island thing.

But, I have wandered.

A perceived friend not only supplied me with a copy of the disturbing image, but this so-called friend also penciled them out of dog urine and feces (and also colored pencils).

Rest easy gentle reader--when I got a copy of the picture I cut his hands clean off and replaced them with steely hooks. Try drawing smut with hook hands, fiend!

I print a copy on this site only to assure the authorities that I was well within my bounds to maim the savage behind these drawings. In fact, only the police should scroll down because the image is to follow:

The needle can sting you

I have a tattoo of our lord Christ on my penis and his mouth is where the pee comes out!

When I masturbate he chokes and cries a little and I know he doesn't want me to spill my seed and the seed chokes him a little and I get a bit sad but a man has private and personal needs.

When I fornicate, however, he sings like a bird! At least I think it's singing, it's hard to tell when a penis is buried in flesh if it's singing or crying for it all to stop.

Anyway I thought that was funny, but not when it's Mohammad. That's not funny, that's a riot!

Monday, February 06, 2006

A cravat too tight

Dear crazy Muslim fundamentalists,


I wanted to say that I applaud your fervor in calling for the deaths of these terrible cartoonists. There are a few other religions that I may or may not be a member of who would do well to follow in your footprints, mainly the Catholics!

Dear German Pope, BRING BACK THE INQUISITIONS! Where have the good times gone when we white people (and even some Mexicans in Spain (like that one Mexican Torquemada (he was one of the good Mexicans!!!))) kill all the others who bother us with impunity and also worship Satan and are witches by the merest suggestion?

But I digress.

Crazy Muslim fundamentalists, I have discovered who drew the cartoons. A trio of Dutch Americans who are actually quite famous. The first is that one guy who used to be funny on Saturday Night Live before he started talking about blah blah blah left wing fun.

The other two are actually married, one draws and one blah blah blah right wing funs.

Bill O'Reilly and his wife who writes all those books who has the anorexia and the Tourette's. I forget her name, but it's Anne Coulter.

Please don't just cut all six hands off for their transgressions. That would be lenient. Kill them. KILL THE INFIDELS! But don't kill me; never kill sweet Ho who loves you so.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Sew her legs up, make her swim

I am deeply saddened by the trouble that Ariel Sharon is undergoing from the operation to give him a tummy tuck and a face lift. He has suffered a massive stroke, I understand, and will not come out of consciousness without desperate measures. Indeed, he may even become like that retard woman in Florida who had that crazy set of parents and that husband who graciously starved her to death! I forget her name, but I saw pictures of what a sweet, happy retard she was.

My plan to restore the Sharon is three-fold.

Step one: Have the Jewesses prepare Matzah-ball soup. This soup, while made of simple materials is not only delightful but is also considered the Chicken soup for the Jewish soul!

Step two: Prophet cartoons. Thousands of them! So many cartoons that the rage of a million Muslims will pour their energy into the sick heart of Sharon and lift it from the pillars of heaven and back into his shriveled body.

Step three: Build a nine foot wall around that old man to keep out the ugly Palestinians! A giant wall manned with guns and barbed wire so that only the clean Jews can get in and change the bed-pan. Only the clean Jews, not the bad, bad men. The ones wrapped in towels who have bad intent for that dear, old man.

Then as some additional steps beyond the first three that I feel pretty sure would help out the situation ... well, one is to rename Blogs of Note to blogs of Scrote. That would help some.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Friction is better than fiction

The Danes and I have one thing in common...we both like to draw pictures of religious figures and post them on the world wide web. The Danes like to post in a language that is known as Dutch but that is really spoken by no one of any consequence, but a picture tells a thousand words, and that's what really matters.

Here is one of the pictures I have drawn...some several years ago...it was an image put in my head by the baby Jesus and he swears to me that it's based on a vision he had some time ago. The picture is of Mohammed driving a car full of bombs into a building! If you look very closely, you'll see that Mohammed is driving some kind of English car cause he's on the wrong side... That was actually a mistake, it was supposed to be a humvee but I can't draw very well.

The sun represents God and he's laughing because that's a building full of Jews! Silly Mohammed, you try to kill Christians and only get Jews.

The picture is much larger in real life, I suspect Al Qaida is doing something with blogger to make it so you can't really see the details. Click on it if you care to see the smiling face of the Mohammed.

The next picture I drew... well, I was actually on the toilet and I was actually pooping. I am a little ashamed to admit that because I don't want people to think that I was influenced by my own acts because I wasn't.

This picture is a picture of...well, Allah pooping. He was reading the Koran but briefly put it down because he's entering the time when he has to wipe. Sure, he's read it before...I mean, he wrote it...but he still picks it up every now and again just to marvel.

I have some pictures of God, too. Not the Jew god but the Xtian God. I'll try and get those thrown up sometime next week.

Truth can be stranger than fiction

I'd like to tell you I'm sorry for the things I've done but that would be a lie and more than a lie but yet another lie I did not regret.

I never read that book with the man with the candy hands and I'll tell you that I never intended to read it.

It's apparently a story about drug addiction and I need no one to tell me about that. I had a powerful aspirin addiction in Junior High and I'll tell you, once you get bleeding stools you never need to be told about what aspirin will do to you.

I wish I could say I'm sorry that I told you your mom was a whore, your mom...Jenny or Julie or that slut Suzan, but that would be a lie. The proof of her whoring ways is evident in your birth.

I wish I could tell you that birth is a clean process but it isnt, it's bloody and the afterbirth is profound.

I'd be more interested in birth if the baby walked out with a fine tophat and a fancy cane and fought his way out of the vagina with a machete and wanted only a glass of gin en lieu of apgar for what does a baby need with apgar?